So I started going to the psychologist not so shortly after I began treatment on a “proper doctor”. I was afraid I was going to find the same ass answers to things that my own miseducated mind provided me with.
Her name was Doctor T.
I both loved and hated her.
She had a very soothing method of uncovering my issues. I guess, because I was constantly blaming myself for everything (like, everything - end of the world is coming and it is my fault), she would be much gentler on the consequences of things than I’d prefer.
It was nobody’s fault. It was my parent’s fault. A child is not to blame.
Let’s make it clear that it took me 10 years of bulimia to finally seek medical help. So I suppose I was almost a child when the disturb first started.
I tell people that I gave up on going because Doctor T was also attending a friend of mine that, at the time, was in a very troubled relationship with me, and she couldn’t help herself meddle into the situation with not so much partiality.
I don’t know if that’s true.
I don’t remember.
I remember being uncomfortable.
I remember not getting better.
I remember being rewarded for every single idea that occurred to me.
And then I quit.
I just stopped going.
I never told her why.
A few years later I was suggested doing the bariatric procedure to “fix all my problems”. And I needed the clearance from a bunch of doctors before I could go through with it.
First, a psychologist.
It was one single meeting.
I was not cleared.
I came into the clinic thinking I had one problem.
And came out finding I had three.
And I guess I fell apart.
But let’s jump to later.
In that same year, a couple months later, I found a psychologist whose clinic was very close to my work.
Let’s call her Doctor G.
Doctor G was veeery different from Doctor T. Not just because of their method (Doctor G was a behaviorist), but because Doctor G was more interested in training me to behave in a healthy way rather than pin pointing every single thing that had gone wrong in my life.
Needless to say, I liked Doctor G better.
But not enough.
I would sit and hear the same advice over and over again “think about it”, “think about it”, “think about it”.
So eventually, when things started to get bad in my head, and thinking about it would lead me to dark corners, specially if I had to share it out loud, I just stopped going.
I also never told her why.
With that history in mind, lets go to the list.
1 - I need a place of discomfort to take a hard look at my life. And the psychologist won’t put you in any position you’re not comfortable with.
2 - I started feeling like most of the meaningful conversations I had about myself, that actually helped me grow and move on, did not happen at the clinic, but with different people in different moments of my life.
3 - I had this fantasy about therapy, that it would come and drive a knife through my soul. It would hurt a lot but it would carve a path for every damaged part of me to fly away through and I would get rid of it all. That didn’t happen - I was being taken to a place where the fact that I am messed up didn’t matter, what mattered was what I did about it. And the thing is… How long can I go without puking when the voices in my head kept telling me to?
4 - I never felt like I was being completely honest and I could never tell if she knew.
5 - I got angry… Angry at people at social media talking about depression. At their speeches and little funny comics about how it really is to live with depression. Or how you’re suppose to deal with a person that has mental illness. Angry because they seemed to have more answers than my own doctor. Were their doctors better than mine? Were their just full of bullshit? I didn’t know.
6 - I did starte thinking, like she asked me to. And I was thinking even without her asking me to. So why did I need her?
And here is why you shouldn’t quit:
1 - It is not the doctors responsibility to guide your life. It is your decision to go to the uncomfortable places in your head, they are only there to help.
2 - You will not resolve every issue in your life sitting on the doctor’s couch. They will teach you something, and you have to take that lesson out in the world and test it. Like finally telling your friend you’re afraid of losing him, and accepting his answer, when he says he is there now.
3 - Nobody is going to save you. And we can have a big discussion about the people in your life that give you strength, but I will say again: nobody is going to save you. But the psychologist will help you understand why you want to be saved. And that is enough.
4 - They are not magical creatures, unfortunately. But they do make their best to ease you into that very hard topic you want to discuss.
5 - People who think they know everything about mental illness are dumb. Most of those lists are crap. Ask for help.
6 - I am coming back soon. And try to do better. And if you can’t handle yourself at the moment, it is always good to count on someone to tell apart reality and darkness.